


The Good That Won’t Come Out

by Thebonemoose



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Ep 160 au, F/F, M/M, Multi, wolf!daisy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 10:08:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23349676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thebonemoose/pseuds/Thebonemoose
Summary: Before Jon can read the statement Basira had sent, he receives a visitor
Relationships: Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Jonathan Sims & Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 26
Kudos: 252





	The Good That Won’t Come Out

**Author's Note:**

> First TMA fic so if it’s out of character... I’m sorry :/ 
> 
> Anywho feel free to scream at me about S5 in the comments

Jon opened his mouth, ready to read from the statement Basira had sent. 

The statement brief showed it was regarding a fire in the childhood home of a woman. He sighed, already afraid this one would not do much to satisfy his appetite. Before he could read the actual statement, however, a scratching at the door drew his attention. 

He glanced in its direction and furrowed his brows.

The scratching noise again. He stood, and slowly, cautiously walked towards the door. He listened again, pressing his ear to the dry wood. 

He felt a large weight heave itself against the wood, pressing against the doorframe. Jon’s pulse quickened. Hopefully Martin was far enough away from the house by now that whatever unspeakable horror that lay behind the door would not see him. 

Or maybe it only wanted Jon. 

That was a distinct possibility, given that his track record with other avatars was… admittedly not the best. 

The door creaked against the weight still pressing against it, and Jon thought he heard the low, guttural sound of an animal growl. He swallowed thickly.

It scratched again, slower this time. Jon could tell just by the sound that whatever claws this beast had were large, and sharp. 

The door moved slightly as the weight left it. Jon didn’t dare open it. Just because the door wasn’t creaking did not mean that the thing was gone. 

A mournful, quiet howl came out then. He froze. Jon almost laughed at how absurd it was. Of all things, howling pitifully? What kind of scare tactic was that?

The howling came through more intensely, and Jon realized for the first time that this creature did not sound malicious, they sounded hurt. His heart dropped.

“Oh, fuck,” Jon said. 

He was going to open the door, wasn’t he?

The animal howled again, desperate. 

Yeah, he was going to open the door. 

He sighed, and gripped the handle. “Sorry, Martin,” he said to the world at large, and then turned the knob. 

Behind the door was a wolf, bigger than any wolf realistically had a right to be. It was injured, with blood matted in its fur. It looked up at Jon with clouded eyes, and tried to stand but wobbled on unsteady legs. 

Something in those eyes, though… 

Jon stepped towards it, crouching down a bit so he was at eye level with the wolf. 

“Daisy?” He asked, softly, and the wolf pressed her forehead against Jon, nearly unbalancing him.

“Oh my god, it is you.” He looked around helplessly, unsure of what to do, how to help her. “Are you… are you stuck? Like… this?”

She didn’t nod, as much as he would have hoped for as clear a communication as that. She just pressed her head to him again, so he took that as a yes. He stood, and tried to help her inside. Her claws skidded along the hardwood floors and left scratches, but neither of them paid any mind. 

Jon led her towards the living room, with its one lumpy couch and threadbare rug. She curled up on the rug and Jon stuttered out that he would be right back.

He came back with a wet cloth and one of the numerous first aid kits Daisy had stashed in her safehouse, which reminded Jon that this was, in fact, Daisy’s safehouse.

He sat down and began gently cleaning her fur, trying to remove the blood and dirt and find where her injuries were, and how deep. 

“Did you even know we were going to be here? Or did you just come here because it’s your safehouse? I guess it doesn’t matter, it’s not as if you can answer right now, anyways,” Jon said quietly. He kept cleaning her fur, and she exhaled deeply.

Her wounds were, thankfully, less extensive than the blood made it seem. He did have to cut away some of the fur in places, when it was too matted to be cleaned. He then began cleaning the wounds themselves with the antiseptic in the kit. “This is going to hurt,” he warned, and pressed the cloth saturated with antiseptic to the wound. Daisy jerked back and growled, and Jon pulled away, an apologetic expression on his face. “I know, I’m sorry. I have to, though. Just… try to stay still.” 

He rubbed her neck, one of the only places on her without any injuries, and once she had relaxed more he continued cleaning. He felt her muscles tense, but she stayed still until he was done. Not all of the wounds needed bandages, but he did his best with the ones that did. 

“Well, it’s not pretty, and I have no idea how to properly bandage… well, anything, but it’s what we’ve got. I’ll check the bandages tomorrow.” Jon stood and stretched, scrunching up his face as his joints popped and protested. 

Daisy looked up at him, but did not move from her position on the floor. 

He glanced at the only clock in the house, ticking quietly on the wall behind the kitchen table. Martin would be back soon. He should probably try to meet him outside, explain the whole ‘Daisy’ situation before Martin came in and reacted to the giant wolf in the living room. 

Jon settled for opening a window in order to hear when Martin walked up to the house, and then he set about cooking dinner. 

He got out two pieces of thawed meat and gave half of it to Daisy on a large plate. She tore into it ravenously, in spite of her injuries. He cooked what was left and made gravy and rice, then left it to warm until Martin got home. 

When he returned to the living room, the meat was, unsurprisingly, gone. Daisy looked at him expectantly. 

“If this is your way of asking for more, I’m afraid I can’t help you. Unless you want rice, but given your current state, I somewhat doubt that.” 

She, of course, did not respond. He huffed a small sigh and left to get her a bowl of water. He set it down in the living room and chuckled slightly when she immediately began lapping it up, splashing water over the floor in the process.

Unfortunately, this meant Jonathan was not paying attention to the sounds outside the cottage, and therefore did not notice when Martin walked up the steps and opened the door. 

“Hey, I’m back!” Martin called, then froze, eyes wide.

Jon tensed and whipped around, and Daisy was immediately on guard.

“Jon, what the fuck is that?!” Martin screeched, his hand still gripping the door, his knuckles white.

“Erm- that’s Daisy, Martin,” Jon fried to gently explain, his palms held out to Martin placatingly. 

Martin tore his eyes away from Daisy and looked at Jon incredulously.

“That looks nothing like Daisy! Please can you come away from the huge wolf in our living room?!” Martin begged. 

“Let’s all be calm about this, yes? Daisy, please relax. You know we won’t hurt you. I honestly doubt we even could. And Martin—“

“WHAT, Jon?” 

“Come closer, please? It’s fine, just… Martin, just look at her. It’s Daisy.” Jon beckoned Martin towards him, and Martin reluctantly let go of the door and stepped closer.

Martin stared distrustfully at Daisy, and Daisy stared right back. She was no longer tense and on alert, but she didn’t look away. It seemed that Jon’s coaxing had worked. 

Martin continued to stare at Daisy, slowly relaxing. “Fuck, it is Daisy,” Martin said at last. He was breathless. He ran a hand through his hair.

Jon nodded. 

“How did she get here? Why is she a wolf? Is she still… you know, Hunt-y?”

Jon shrugged. “I’ve no idea. She seems to be stuck. She’s injured, I tried to tend to her as best as I could, but my first aid skills have something to be desired. Oh, and dinner’s on the stove, by the way.” 

Martin looked to Jon with a fondly exasperated expression. 

“I gave her one of our steaks, by the way. We should probably go to the market soon and grab her some more. I don’t know how much a creature of her size needs to eat every day, but I’m guessing a small slab of meat is not enough.”

“Wait, Jon. Are you telling me you want her to stay with us?”

Jon nodded slowly. “Well… yes. I assumed she would. She’s injured, Martin. And this is her safehouse, after all. Really, we’re the guests.” 

“Right, that’s all well and good, but Jon— how do we know she won’t ‘Succumb to the Blood’ or whatever again? What guarantee do we have that she’s free from the Hunt?”

Jon looked to the living room where Daisy was now laying on her side, docile as a poodle. “I think if she was going to rip us apart, she’d have done it already,” he remarked. 

“Maybe she thinks she’s free, but something could still set her off. What do we do then, Jon?”

Jonathan sighed. “It’s a valid point, Martin. But I don’t know what to say. I just… I feel like I Know she’s safe.”

“You feel like you Know, or you do Know?”

“I do Know.” 

Martin looked at Jon for a moment. Then he shrugged. “Alright. I’m with you. But if we die, I told you so. And I will be haunting you.”

Jon pulled a face. “Can ghosts haunt other ghosts?”

“They can now,” Martin said, and left to grab plates for dinner. 

Dinner was a quick affair, and Martin volunteered to clean up afterwards while Jon tended to Daisy. He checked her bandages and rubbed her head, and she leaned into his hand, which made him chuckle softly. “You’re like a pet, honestly,” he laughed and Daisy did whatever the wolf equivalent of a glare was. The effect was somewhat dulled by the fact that she had not stopped leaning into Jon’s hand as he scratched behind her ears. 

Martin joined them a few minutes later, a fond look on his face. 

“Are you going to join us on the floor?”

Martin pretended to think. “Almost certainly not.”

“But Martin, how could you possibly resist this face?” He asked, and motioned towards Daisy, who at that moment decided to yawn and showcase her formidable teeth.

“Quite easily, thanks, Martin replied.

Jon tutted at him and kept petting Daisy. 

“We need to call Basira,” Martin said after a moment. 

Jon froze. “Oh, shit. Basira.”

“I’ll go to town and use the library’s landline tomorrow,” Martin offered. “She’ll probably want to head over as soon as she can.”

“I don’t know how quick that’ll be. The Institute is still crawling with police, all of whom know her.”

Martin quirked his head. “That’s true.” He worried his lip and stared into the distance as he thought. 

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the three of them enjoying the moments of stillness. 

Martin broke the silence. “Alright, I’m going to bed.” Martin stood and stretched. “Are you coming, Jon?” 

“I think I’ll stay in the living room tonight, keep an eye on her,” Jon said. 

Martin shrugged. “Suit yourself,” Martin said, and bent down to press a kiss to Jon’s temple. “Goodnight Jon. Goodnight Daisy,” he tacked on as an afterthought. He turned to leave, but paused. Martin looked back to Daisy. “Er… sorry for being rude to you back at the archives,” he said to her. 

Daisy just huffed. 

Jon looked back to Martin. “I’m assuming that means you’re forgiven,” he said, grinning. 

Martin rolled his eyes and walked out. 

Jon decided to retire not long after, and grabbed a blanket. He settled on the couch and would have fallen asleep in record time, if it weren’t for Daisy staring and whining at him. 

“What?” 

She whined some more. She stepped forward and grabbed the leg of his trousers, gently pulling it until his leg was off the couch. 

“Daisy, you sap,” he muttered fondly, and grabbed the pillow and blanket. He spread them on the floor and laid down. Daisy curled up beside him, and rested her large head on his chest. The weight of her was surprisingly comforting. 

They fell asleep that way, and Jon found that her crushing heaviness was nothing like The Buried; instead it was like being cocooned, and he allowed himself to feel safe, if only for the night.

Jon awoke the next morning to Martin cooking sausages and eggs. He was humming softly to himself over the pop and sizzle of the sausages, and Jon realized Daisy was no longer resting her head on his chest. Instead, she was seated in the kitchen, looking up at Martin expectantly. Martin waggled a wooden spatula at her.

“Don’t beg, Daisy-girl. It’s unbecoming. You’re an apex predator, not a common pet. Have some self-respect, and that’s coming from me,” he joked, then turned back to the stove.

Jon watched fondly as Daisy headbutted Martin gently, enough to unbalance him but not enough to topple him over. He screeched and whipped around, again brandishing the spatula. “Daisy, I am slaving over a hot stove for you! The least you could do is show some appreciation.” 

“I think we all know you’re slaving over a hot stove for yourself, Martin. Daisy and I have more… eccentric tastes,” Jon said standing. 

Martin started slightly, and Jon held back a smile at the slight blush on Martin’s cheeks. 

“Nevertheless, it’s still my food Daisy’ll be chowing down on, cooked or not. And you’ll be eating it too,” he said, in a tone that left no room to argue. 

Jon couldn’t help but smile this time. He approached Daisy and reached down to pat her side, and she leaned into him for a few seconds. That was a ‘good morning’ if Jon ever knew one. 

“Whatever you say, Martin. It does smell very good, for the record.” 

Martin turned around to Jon and smiled softly at him. “It’s about done, anyways.” 

“What are you doing today? Still going to town to call Basira?” 

Martin nodded as he dished out the breakfast. He handed two plates to Jon, who put them on the kitchen table. Martin dumped the rest of the sausages onto a plate on the floor for Daisy, who began eating immediately.

Jon did eat, although it was mostly to appease Martin. The food still tasted good, and he could feel it filling him up, but it didn’t fully satisfy him. The relief of eating that he used to experience was gone. It was not an activity anymore, now it was just… an action, he supposed. Something he did because it was expected, not because it was fully necessary. 

After breakfast, Martin got dressed and left to walk to the odd conglomeration of buildings that constituted a town in rural Scotland. Jon sent him off with a kiss on the cheek and a wave from the doorstep like some housewife waving her husband off to war. 

Daisy nudged Jon aside and darted out of the house, running through the yard. 

“Daisy, wait! You’ll hurt yourself!” 

Daisy paid him no mind, even as he struggled to chase her. She was much faster, and Jon had to give up out of pure exhaustion. He flopped down onto the dewy grass, and squinted his eyes against the sunlight. Daisy came, and her form blocked out the and cast a blessed shadow over his face. 

“You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?”

Daisy just huffed.

“We’re going back inside, and I’m going to check your bandages.”

Daisy didn’t move.

“It’s no use arguing. My mind is made up.”

She continued to stare down at him. 

“Oh, alright. A short walk, and you’re not allowed to eat any animals! Or humans! Or… grass. Don’t eat anything, and don’t run away.” 

Daisy sat back and panted at him. Jon sighed and stood. He dusted off his trousers, and Daisy went scampering off. Jon followed at a steady pace behind her. 

Daisy would occasionally run back and walk besides Jon for a little while, and he would attempt to get her to stand still so he could make sure her wounds were alright. She always managed to squirm away and go bouncing off ahead. Eventually she trotted back and waited beside Jon, who took it as a sign that she was ready to go back. 

They came back to a fire going in the fireplace and Martin signing distantly in the shower. Jon collapsed in a shabby armchair and caught his breath. 

Daisy, however, was occupied with something below the kitchen table. 

“Daisy, what are you doing?” Jon called, still seated. Daisy came out from under the table with a crumpled up piece of paper in her mouth. “Ew, are you eating garbage? Daisy, come on now.” 

She entered the living room and Jon tried to get a closer look, but she pulled away. “Wait a minute— that’s my statement!” Jon stood and Daisy dodged him, then beelined for the fireplace and spat the statement into the flames.

“Wha- hey! I was going to eat that!”

Daisy came back and looked at Jon. 

“I’m assuming there was a reason for that. You’d better tell me when you’re human again. Or close enough,” Jon added as an afterthought. 

He got her a bowl of water and retrieved the first aid supplies again. She laid down and he tended to her once again, ensuring she hadn’t exacerbated her injuries at all. They were healing well, and Jon guessed that avatars of the hunt were also gifted quick healing, especially if Trevor Herbert was any indication. She should be better in a day, by his estimate. 

He put away the supplies and laid down on the couch, stretched across the length of it. Daisy immediately followed suit, and the couch creaked and protested her mass. She plopped herself on top of him, and Jon groaned as she settled. 

“Oh-Kay,” was all he seemed capable of at the moment. 

Martin came in a few moments later, his hair damp. He seemed surprised at the sight of Jon and Daisy, given his small gasp. Jon couldn’t see him with Daisy on top of him, but Jon did hear the small, artificial shutter sound of a phone camera. 

“How was Basira?” Jon wheezed. 

“She’s leaving tomorrow, she’ll arrive towards the afternoon. 

“Any word on the whole Jonah Business?”

Martin came into view, shaking his head. “Nothing new. Basira reckons he’s gone into hiding.” Martin muttered darkly to himself for a moment. 

“We shouldn’t get too comfortable,” Jon remarked. 

Martin snorted. “Right, comin’ from you,” he laughed.

“For your information,” Jon began. “I cannot BREATHE.” 

“Could’ve fooled me,” Martin said. “Have you read any statements?”

“No. Daisy threw one of them away, though. The one I was going to read yesterday, before she came here.”

“What?”

“It’s possible something was… amiss.”

Martin furrowed his brow. “Amiss how?”

“I don’t know for sure. I can’t See anything, but given what we know from Basira, Jonah Magnus may have something to do with it.”

Martin hummed. “You think he’s going to try something, don’t you?” 

Jon nodded. “It… may be wise to have you skim the statements before I record them… just in case.” 

Martin shrugged. “Sure. Better safe than sorry, I guess.” 

They were both silent for a moment, remembering the unfortunately frequent occasions on which they were sorry, instead of safe. 

“Um, I’ll make some tea, shall I? Would you like some?” Martin patted his lap and stood.

“Yes, please, that sounds lovely,” Jon replied. 

Martin brought his tea out several minutes later, and Jon tried to sit up to take a sip, but he couldn’t lift himself with Daisy curled up on top of him. 

“Could you— do you mind?” He asked. 

She opened an eye. 

“Please?”

Daisy deigned to move just enough for Jon to not choke while drinking his tea. And when he’d had a sip and was placing it on the coffee table, she stuck her snout in the mug and began drinking.

Jon squawked. “Daisy!”

He pulled the mug away, but the deed was done. She had tea all over her whiskers, and he had disgusting wolf germs in his mug. 

Martin laughed at him. “D’you want some more?” He asked good naturedly.

Jon sighed. “No, don’t trouble yourself.”

“I don’t mind, Jon.”

Jon looked up at Martin, smiling softly at him. Something settled inside of him. “Alright,” he said quietly. Martin walked towards him and kissed his forehead, then retreated to the kitchen. 

Daisy bit his arm. 

“Ow?” 

It was a gentle bite, but his wrist was still held gingerly between her sharp teeth. 

“This is why I’m a cat person.” He tried to extricate his arm from her jaw, but as soon as he pulled away she just captured it again. 

“Do you think this is a game, Daisy?” He deadpanned. 

She wagged her tail, and it thumped loudly against the couch cushions. 

Jon eventually gave in, and continued pulling his arm away only for her to bite him again. 

Martin came back with the tea, and Jon managed to dump both himself and Daisy onto the floor. It was not the most graceful of solutions, but it was effective. Daisy stayed on the ground, laid on her side, and Jon grabbed his mug and sat on the arm of the chair Martin was curled up in. He leaned against Martin and thanked him again for the tea. 

“Oh, I just remembered. Basira talked to Georgie and Melanie.” 

“How are they?” Jon asked quietly. 

“Melanie’s good, I think. She’s adjusting well. Basira said the therapy was helping. They’re taking care of each other. Basira updated them on the Magnus situated, said it was good Melanie got out when she did.”

Jon nodded in absentminded agreement.”She’s right. I hope… I hope they’re okay. Or that they will be okay.”

Martin wrapped an arm around Jon’s waist and pulled him closer. “Me, too.”

The rest of the day passed quietly. Daisy dozed, and Martin got up to make dinner while Jon read a statement. 

“Feel better?” Martin asked when Jon came into the kitchen afterwards and wrapped his arms around Martin from behind. Jon nodded, his head pressed against Martin’s back. 

“I picked up extra meat in town for Daisy-girl,” Martin said. 

“I think she’ll be human, soon, you know.”

“Well, hopefully she won’t be a vegetarian by then.”

Jon chuckled, and Martin continued cooking pasta. 

Daisy kept sleeping when Jon and Martin had dinner, and only awoke when Jon was doing the washing up and Martin was presenting her with her dinner. She was understandably ravenous, and devoured it within minutes. Martin gave her another, which had the unexpected effect of buying her affection. When she’d finished her second helping, she leaned against Martin like she had with Jon the day before. 

“I guess all is forgiven, then?” 

“What’s she doing?” Jon called.

“Just, sort of… leaning on me?” 

“Ah, yeah.” 

“Was she like this with you after The Buried?”

“Like what?” Jon asked, wiping his hands on a dish towel and coming into view. 

“This physically affectionate, I guess.” 

Jon shook his head. “We were closer, as you know. But she didn’t lay completely on top of me, if that’s what you’re asking. It was more… we trusted each other, we could be… safe, with one another. For us, that didn’t mean 4am cuddle parties in my office, it mostly meant being there for each other when things got to be too much. Or being a quiet place, where we could be still.”

Martin swallowed thickly. “I’m glad you guys had that,” he said quietly. 

“Martin, stop.”

Martin turned his head away slightly. “I’m not doing anything.”

“You’re tucking yourself away because you feel guilty, and I’m telling you that you don’t need to. It’s over. We made it through. You don’t have to destroy yourself over the past.”

“Take your own advice sometime, yeah?” Martin said in lieu of a proper reply.

Jon rolled his eyes. “Yes, alright, that’s fair. We could both do with several years of therapy, I know, I know.”

“Old hat at this point, eh?” Martin said, smiling slightly. 

“Consider this dead horse thoroughly beat.”

“Hm. Gross.”

Jon snickered at Martin’s response and again came to sit beside him. 

They chatted quietly until Martin decided he was ready for bed. He kissed Jon goodnight, and scratched Daisy’s ears for a moment, then headed to the bedroom. 

Jon replaced the blanket and pillow he’d used the night previous and curled up on the ground. Daisy did the same, moving until she was under the blanket with him and they were turned towards each other, curved together like a question mark and its reflection. 

Jon slept soundly, pulled by the heavy rhythm of Daisy's breaths and the quiet hum of the night outside the living room window. 

When Martin awoke before the sun the next morning, he stopped in his tracks. Jon was sleeping, same as ever, although he was shivering slightly, as Daisy had apparently stolen the blanket. 

Daisy, who was no longer a wolf. She was wrapped in the blanket, and her head was pressed against Jon’s shoulders. 

Martin smiled. He would let them sleep. Goodness knew they could use it. 

Jon awoke to the sunlight streaming into the living room, directly in his eyes. It turned the room bright and yellow and alive, and Jon would’ve thought it very beautiful if he weren’t cold, and still a bit tired. He turned over, and froze. 

Daisy was returned to her rightful form, covered in the blanket they had shared. Her eyes were closed, and the sun glinted off her red-gold hair. Jon could see some of the bandages peeking out from under the blanket, loose and unnecessary. It was likely that Daisy’s wounds were completely healed by now, though doubtless there would be scars. 

But for now, the violence was forgotten. She was free; and in the golden light she opened her eyes and smiled. 

The morning crept on, and Jon gave daisy some clothes to borrow, which she thanked him for with a slightly hoarse voice. He smiled and nodded. 

“You know, I do have clothes hidden around here somewhere,” she said.

“I’m sure you do.” 

“I’m going to find them, and then you can take your old man clothes back,” Daisy insisted.

Jon frowned. “I don’t wear old man clothes.”

Martin sucked in a breath. “Well…”

Jon turned around and stared at him, his mouth open in shocked betrayal. Martin just shrugged and retreated to the kitchen. 

Martin prepared breakfast, and Daisy seemed particularly glad to be eating vegetables again, judging by the way she inhaled her breakfast. She was just as hungry as she had been as a wolf, although she ate less. 

“Basira’s arriving later,” Martin remarked. 

Daisy glanced up for a moment, her brow furrowed. Then she ducked down and continued eating, hunkered over her plate of peppers and sausage.

“Are you...excited to see her?” Martin prompted. 

Daisy sat up and sighed. “Yes,” she admitted, her voice still quiet and rough. 

“Are you nervous?”

She shrugged noncommittally. 

Martin gave up after that. Daisy wasn’t one for talking much, anyways. 

Daisy finished eating, and took her plate to the kitchen. The sound of the faucet running and silverware clinking together came through for a few moments. The faucet turned off, and Daisy came back, wiping her hands on a dishcloth. 

She awkwardly reached out a hand and patted Martin’s shoulder. “Thanks for breakfast, Martin-boy,” she said, the ghost of a smile on her lips. Martin grinned. 

“It’s no trouble,” he said, clearly pleased. 

She nodded, and motioned towards the back door. “I’ll be outside, if anyone needs me.” She walked out. 

Jon watched her leave. He turned back to Martin. “I’ll go with her. Thanks for breakfast, love,” Jon said, kissing Martin’s forehead before heading to the kitchen to wash his plate. Martin just beamed. 

Jon opened the back door with a creak. Daisy glanced upwards, her posture relaxed. 

“Mind if I join you?” He asked. 

Daisy patted the wood floor of the porch beside her. 

They sat in pleasant silence, and let the wind carry the distant noises of the countryside past them.

“I think the statement you were reading before I found you was going to end the world,” Daisy said without prompting. 

Jon looked to her, wide eyed. “How do you know?”

“I don’t, really. But I had a bad feeling. Something about it made me uneasy. It smelled like… Elias. I figured if I was wrong, you could manage a lean day, but if I was right…”

“Lean days from there on out?” Jon asked, dryly. 

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“Fair enough.” Jon sat back against the wall of the house, and breathed the crisp mid-morning air. It was clean and fresh, and he felt...human.

Just then, Martin opened the door and poked his head out. “Um, a thought just occurred to me. Do you want us to move out of the bedroom?” He asked Daisy.

She seemed taken aback. “Er… no. That’s okay.” 

Martin shrugged. “Oh. Alright then. Where are you going to sleep?” 

Daisy hesitated.

“What, you don’t think the bed’s big enough for three?” Jon teased, and Daisy smiled. 

“Four, if you count Basira,” Daisy said. 

“No, there’s no way Basira would ever be in the same bed as Jon,” Martin commented bluntly.

Daisy snorted, and quirked her head. “That’s true. I’ll just take the couch, Martin. Thanks.” 

“Sure,” he said with a smile, and left.

Daisy turned to Jon. “So I guess all your pining after Martin paid off.” 

Jon rolled his eyes. “It seems that way, doesn’t it?”

Daisy chuckled. They sat in comfortable silence for a while after that. Occasionally they chatted, or commented on the weather, the town, or the cows. But mostly, the hours passed in a still sort of companionship. 

“I’m going to read a statement, I think. Are you coming in?” Jon stood and dusted off his pants.

“No, I’ll stay out for a bit.”

Jon nodded, and went back inside. 

Daisy looked out over the rolling green landscape, and felt a stubborn little twinge of hope. She wanted so badly to be done. She just… wanted to rest. No more Elias, no more Choke, no more Hunt. 

No more blood.  
Just let her be Daisy. Just Daisy. Not a monster, or a wolf, or a prisoner. 

Just Daisy. 

She leaned her head back against the wall with a slight thud. 

It really was no use begging for things that may never happen. She didn’t make a habit of it, generally. But, well, just this once… 

And who could fault her for that? 

Daisy sighed, heavy and deep, and tried to let the tension in her body leak out like air from a balloon. She stood, and dusted her pants off in the same manner as Jon. 

Then she heard muffled voices from inside, the even placating tones of Jon and Martin, and someone else, someone distressed.

Daisy opened the back door, stepped inside.

Basira froze. She looked so tired, with circles around her eyes and travel-wrinkled clothes. Basira stared at Daisy like she was drinking her in, memorizing her every curve and angle. 

And suddenly the distance was just too great, and before Daisy knew it her legs were carrying her quickly across the room, and Basira was opening her arms and holding her in them.

Daisy couldn’t tell if she was crying or if Basira was-- maybe they both were. She pulled away, tearless, and looked at Basira. 

Basira was sniffling, and trying not to show it. Daisy held Basira’s face in her hands, just looking at her. “Hi, Basira,” she said simply, and Basira broke into another round of sobs. 

“Fuck you, you’re never allowed to ask me for anything ever again,” Basira says tearfully, although her tears didn’t diminish her anger at all. 

“I won’t, I won’t,” Daisy assured, and Basira exhaled a shaky breath. 

She nodded to herself. “Okay. Right, then. Where are the boys?” 

Daisy looked around for Jon and Martin, but didn’t see them. They probably left to give them some privacy, she realized. She smiled to herself. 

“I’ll grab them. Are you hungry?” She asked Basira as she walked to the backdoor, where muffled voices could be heard.   
Basira said she was, and Daisy opened the door. “Coast is clear, boys. You can come in now.”

Jon and Martin shuffled back inside, somewhat sheepishly. Basira didn’t pay them any mind. “Alright, I’m making dinner,” Daisy announced

“Oh, I can do it, Daisy--” Martin tried to insist, but Daisy levelled him with a look.

“I haven’t cooked in over a year, Martin. Let me do this for you all.”

Martin acquiesced. “Well, would you at least like a sous chef?”

She chuckled. “Sure. Get to chopping.” 

He gave her a mock salute and said “Yes, chef!”

Jon and Basira settled on the couches while Daisy and Martin worked. They were talking seriously, in low voices. Daisy watched them for a moment, her expression tight. 

Then Basira chukled, and Jon let out a quick grin, and they both relaxed. Daisy exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, and went back to cooking.

Dinner was ready not much later, and Daisy and Martin presented it proudly. The sun had set, and the dining room was bathed in the light of Daisy’s orange-yellow light bulbs. Not very flattering, but cozy, at least. 

They dug in with gusto, even Jon. Conversation was easy, and Daisy assumed that was a product of Basira and Jon’s solemn discussion earlier. Daisy stopped for a moment, and watched her companions. 

Looking around at the people around her, chatting and eating, illuminated by warm light-- Daisy realized that this was the closest thing she had to a family, and at once she knew she would not be letting anyone or anything put that in jeopardy.

The future was going to be bright, even if she had to make it so herself.


End file.
